Stolen Breaths
by Hesta's Journal
Summary: "In the end, it's not going to matter how many breaths you took, but how many moments took your breath away". 50 Lavender-centric oneshots, for Black Rose Blue's Bootcamp challenge.
1. Jewellery, Model's Own

_"In the end, it's not going to matter how many breaths you took, but how many moments took your breath away"_

_Shing Xiong_

* * *

**And after that cheesy quote... a little information:**

**So, basically, this is going to be a series of 50 unrelated oneshots, all Lavender-centric, for Black Rose Blue's 'Favourite Character Bootcamp Challenge'. I chose Lavender because, out of all the HP characters, she's the one that I find easiest to relate to and the easiest to write about without worrying about whether I've got her in-character or not. I think that a lot of people don't seem to give her enough credit, most of us tend to just assume that she's a bit of an airhead, or too girly or whatnot. I used to assume that as well, but, if you think about it, she _was _put in Gryffindor and she did join Dumbledore's Army. And, although this doesn't necessarily say too much about her because a _lot_ of people in Hogwarts seemed to fight in the Battle, Lavender also fought in that. **

**In short, I've actually come to really love her - as much as you can love a fictional character.**

**So, this is my dedication to Lavender Brown because, even if she seemed to spend most of her page-time in the books as a giggling girl or an annoying girlfriend, I believe there's more to her than that.**

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**Title: _Jewellery, Model's Own_**

**Author: _Hesta's Journal_**

**Word Count: _2183_**

**Type of Story: _Oneshot_**

**Prompt: _Apple_**

**Rating: _T_**

**Summary: _Lavender dreams about what she'll do when she's 'older', but finds that things don't always go the way we plan._**

**Author's Note: _Probably the hardest I've worked on a fic in a long time, and the most fun I've had. I don't know how good the result is, though... it's also probably the first fic I've done with so little description and so much dialogue, because I think a lot of the time I spend too long dwelling on trying to describe the setting. So, it's kind of an experiment. Feel free to tell me what you think of it! _**

**_Love, Hesta_**

**Disclaimer: Didn't own yesterday, don't own today, won't own tomorrow. Or ever.**

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_"I'm going to be a dressmaker when I'm older," Lavender stood in front of her reflection, fingering her frothy white dress with awe._

_Parvati flipped open a pocket mirror and added apple red lipstick to her lips carefully. "Like Madam Malkin?"_

_Lavender nodded. "I'd make wedding dresses and party dresses. All kinds of dress-robes. Imagine being able to create something as beautiful as this -" she gestured to her dress - "... it would be amazing, wouldn't it?"_

_"I don't know... I'd rather be a model, one of those witches you see on magazine covers. Maybe I could model your clothes."_

_"You'd make a beautiful model, 'Vati! I can just see our names together on a shiny magazine page - 'Parvati Patil modelling clothes by fashion designer Lavender... I'm just going to use my first name because 'Brown' sounds so boring," she sighed dreamily, turning so that she could get a 360 degree view of her dress. The material swirled around her ankles as she did so, creating what she fancied an almost movie-star look._

_Parvati laughed. "Alright, dreamer. You ready to go down and meet our dates?"_

_"Just let me put some mascara on - can I borrow yours? -" she snooped around in Parvati's make-up bag - "I still can't believe you bagged Harry as a date... I mean, I'm happy with Seamus... but if Harry asked me, I wouldn't say no..."_

**xXxXx**

Lavender wrapped the cloth around Terry's arm. Blood had already started seeping through the grey material, but she figured that as long as it got the job done, she couldn't worry about how it looked.

"You're as bad as Neville and Seamus, I swear," she said half-heartedly, tying a knot in the makeshift bandage.

He raised his eyebrows. "The only people who don't look as bad as me are the Slytherins."

It was an exaggeration, but unfortunately only a small one. She whacked him around the head lightly. "Get lost, Boot."

He flashed her a smile before turning to take his leave. There were other people waiting in line. "Thanks, Lav."

Colin stepped up next, and she bit her lip. The wound that she had to treat this time was only small - a gash running across his chest - but there were scars and half-healed cuts scattered all over his small body. He pointed at the wound on his chest, directing her gaze away from a particularly nasty-looking scar on his left arm. "Hi Lavender."

The cheerfulness in his voice sounded strange in the muted atmosphere of the Room of Requirement. "Hi Colin."

And she set to work. After almost two terms of fixing other people up, Healing or bandaging the wounded when the necessary spell-work was too advanced, Lavender discovered she had become surprisingly adept at it. Maybe she had wanted to be a dressmaker once, long ago, but now she realised there was a more important job for her to do in this world. Sewing together clothes, patching up torn shirts, creating beautiful dresses - it was a lovely idea, but nothing more. Sewing skin shut, magicking wounds away, creating a smile on peoples' faces and a spring in their step, this was more important than dressmaking.

**xXxXx**

_"What's happening with you and Seamus, eh?" _

_Lavender looked mildly irritated. "Nothing, we're just friends."_

_Mandy leaned forwards curiously, eyes bright. She waggled her finger at Lavender. "I can't tell you how many times I've heard that, and the people who say it are always wrong. What's holding you back?"_

_"Nothing's holding me back! I've told you - we're just friends."_

_"Right... just like Harry and Ginny were _just_ friends. Like Anthony and Lisa are _just_ friends... like Boot still thinks he's just friends with me - he'll learn soon enough... so... why don't you do something?"_

_"Listen, I'm going out with Stephen, okay? And I'm in love with him. Stephen's perfect for me - he's dark complexioned -" Mandy rolled her eyes - "and serious, knows where he's going in life, doesn't put himself in danger unnecessarily because he's clever... he's thoughtful and he loves me for me. And I love him for him. End of story, Mandy."_

_"... he's in love with you, honey."_

_"Who? Stephen?" Lavender played dumb, not looking at her friend._

_"Seamus, stupid. And you're in love with him, too, but you're just blinded by the fact that Cornfoot manages to meet all your ideas of a perfect boyfriend."_

_"So what if he does? Isn't that a good thing?"_

_"Yes, but, in case it hasn't escaped your notice, sometimes what you think you need isn't what you actually need. Just a thought," Mandy shrugged, eyeing her fingernails reflectively. "Like, for example, Terry is convinced that his ideal girlfriend is serious and clever and hardworking, a typical Ravenclaw. He's convinced his girlfriend's got to be a Ravenclaw, actually. But he just can't see that I'm a far better fit for him than any Cho Chang types."_

_Lavender rolled her eyes._

**xXxXx**

"He's so handsome!" Lavender sighed, lying on the grass and staring up at the sky, not really seeing it. Her head rested comfortably on a cushion that she had had the forethought to bring along.

Mandy laughed, plucking at the grass absentmindedly. "I recall you saying last term that you and Seamus were just friends."

"We are," Lavender sighed. "Just because I say he's good-looking doesn't mean that I like him that way..."

"... do I detect an air of longing? A breath of wishfulness? A tear of disappointment?" Mandy teased, sucking on a blade of grass. "And can I say 'I told you so'?"

"Shut it, Brocklehurst."

"Is that embarrassed realisation? A pitiful attempt at concealing true feelings?"

"I'm warning you..."

"Anger at being discovered? Hatred of knowing that everybody else can see you fancy him? Bewilderment at why you - oof! Oi!"

The cushion that had been resting so pleasantly beneath Lavender's head now discovered itself being thrown at Mandy's face. Lavender smiled smugly at her friend. "I told you to be careful."

"Trying to steer the subject away from your true love?" Mandy continued unperturbedly, causing a groan from the Gryffindor girl. "Worried that he might hear that he's now the object of your affections... -"

"Sweet _Merlin_! Are you never quiet?"

"- that a little bird might tell him he's the person you dream is holding you at night..."

**xXxXx**

_Lavender sat cross-legged on the common room sofa, poring over the wedding magazine she had bought in Muggle London in the Christmas holidays. By her side sat another magazine, this one about wizarding wedding dresses. _

_Everything on the pages looked so crisp, clean and beautiful. Delicate lace or silky satin. Long, ball-gown wedding dresses fit for a princess, or short, flirty ones that looked like they were designed with a party rather than a wedding in mind. Flowing, elegant lines or sharp, futuristic angles. All were worthy of her admiration, and she pictured herself in each and every one of them._

_Lavender had her wedding all planned out. She would walk down the aisle of a beautiful old stone church, her father beside her. The exact location of the church and the details of her wedding dress varied depending on her mood, but she did know that she would have lilies, roses and hawthorn flowers in her bouquet. Maybe she would have some flowers looped into her hair, too..._

_Footsteps sounded behind her and then a head rested on her shoulder. The person took in the photographs on the magazine page silently for a few seconds. Then: "Aren't you a bit young to be getting married?"_

_Lavender smiled faintly, although her gaze remained fixed on the page. "McGonagall is always going on about how we have to plan for our future, so I thought I might do that. Professor Trelawney says I'm going to get married in spring, too, so I need to make sure I choose the right dress. Which one do you think'd suit me, Seamus?"_

_"..."_

_"What? Are you telling me boys don't do this, too?" she said slyly._

_"... are you telling me you're not the only girl who does this?"_

**xXxXx**

Snowflakes swirled down from the grey sky and rested on her hair, glistening. A cold wind blew roughly across the snow-covered lawn, and Lavender felt intensely grateful that she had opted to wear leggings under her jeans as well as a jumper. She would have probably died of cold if she had gone for something more traditional-looking.

"You sure you want to go through with this, Lav?" he asked her quietly, sandy hair flecked with snow. "I know that you wanted a church wedding and all..."

"You having doubts, Seamus?" she teased, reaching out to brush some snow from his shoulders.

"Course not. Wasn't I the one who asked you to marry me, and not the other way 'round?"

She snorted, ignoring the minister who was shifting from foot to foot impatiently. "As far as I can remember, you chickened out at the last minute and I had to worm the question out of you."

"Still counts as me asking," he muttered, but his eyes danced. He leaned over to plant a chaste kiss on her cheek. "So I'm taking that as a 'yes', you do still want to marry me?"

"Seamus Finnigan, you are quite possibly the only man I'd ever get married to on our back lawn in the snow wearing jeans, a jumper and wellies."

"I was kind of hoping you'd say that."

**xXxXx**

_"He's gorgeous," Lavender cooed, rocking the baby back and forth in her arms. She was sitting under the apple tree with Mandy in the other woman's backyard. Glossy apples were littered across the grass all around them, a few with bite marks from various small animals._

_Mandy smiled, flipping the pages of the magazine she was reading. "I don't need you to tell me that. He looks more like Terry than me, though, doesn't he?"_

_Lavender scrutinised the boy's face. "I'm not sure... he's definitely got your hair colour."_

_"Terry's eyes, though. Damn it all. Brown eyes are so boring - I was hoping he'd get Terry's mum's grey eyes. Or something else... he's definitely got a very Boot name. 'Ethan' is the kind of name that has been running in Terry's family for ages."_

_"I'd like to call my daughter Fiona, if I have one. Or, if it's a boy, I'd call him Derek. But Seamus wants to call our future daughter Lauren and, if it's a boy, Jackson," Lavender said, thinking aloud as she leaned back against the apple tree._

_"Trust me, Terry and me had all kinds of names picked out for this kid, but when he was born none of them seemed to fit. And Terry was just like 'Oh, bugger it all - let's call him 'Ethan' and get this naming business over and done with'."_

_There was a comfortable pause before Lavender asked randomly. "Would your teenage self have believed it if you told her that, one day, she would be married to Terry Boot of Ravenclaw and have a baby boy called Ethan?"_

_"Of course she would. I always did tell you that I'd end up with Terry, didn't I? But, would _your_ teenage self believe you if you told her that you'd end up being a Healer at St Mungo's instead of a fashion designer, that you would get married in the snow on your back lawn instead of in a church, and be married to Seamus instead of Stephen or another serious, dark-complexioned man?" Mandy's eyes sparkled mischievously at her friend._

_"Guess dreams don't always turn into reality, do they?" _

_"Well, not strictly true...," Mandy held the magazine page up so that Lavender could see the dark-skinned woman posing on the shiny page, wearing a floaty pale pink dress that contrasted elegantly with her skin. The words beneath the picture read 'Parvati Patil, wearing dress by Phoenix, shoes by McLaggen. Jewellery, model's own'. _

**xXxXx**

Lavender traced her finger tenderly along the baby girl's apple red cheek, along the small ears and nose. She couldn't believe that _she_ had helped to make this wonder. The girl's mouth opened in a yawn, and Lavender felt her chest tightening as she took in her baby's face once more - she felt as though she would never become tired of staring at her girl.

"D'you still want to call her 'Fiona'?" Seamus asked as he sat down by her side on the bed. He placed the cup of tea he had been making in the kitchen on their bedside table.

Not looking up from her child, Lavender shook her head. "No... I'd like her middle name to be 'Lauren', though."

Seamus's face looked slightly apprehensive at this announcement - he wondered what kind of name Lavender was willing to give up 'Fiona' for. "Dare I ask what you want to call her now?"

Finally lifting her head, Lavender shot him an endearing look. "I think 'Apple Lauren Finnigan' has quite a nice ring to it, don't you?"

The look on Seamus's face more than made up for his lack of words.


	2. Photo Album

**Title: _Photo Album_**

**Author: _Hesta's Journal_**

**Word Count: _2106_**

**Type of Story: _Oneshot_**

**Prompt: _Death_**

**Rating: _T_**

**Summary: _Moving on is never easy._**

**Author's Note: _Personally, I absolutely adored writing this. I've wanted to write a reflective story like this for a very long time, and I don't know why, but today I was really angry and annoyed with myself. I was completely bonkers with anger at my writing and I felt I honestly couldn't write anything if I tried (I was so sick and tired of writing) but then I was like... oh... I still have to write something because I _did_ sign myself up for a challenge and I might as well stick to it. And then this idea, which has been lingering in my head for a long time - like I said - presented itself to me and I was like 'oh, alright then'. And I got to work. And I've restored my love of writing and am no longer angry :)._**

**_Also, thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter! And also to the people who read, favourited and/or followed this story. It really does mean a lot to me that there are people out there who like my work and feel that it's even changed their opinions (hopefully in a good way)._**

**Disclaimer: I don't understand the point of these disclaimers... I really don't... who seriously thinks that JKR would be writing fanfiction of her own work?**

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The photograph in the pale blue album was slightly yellowed, faded by age. A small stain was in the upper right corner, smelling faintly of coffee. A smiling young woman stared back at the camera, her arms flung around the shoulders of a young man and woman of about her own age. All three looked achingly happy, the kind of happiness that one looks at and wishes one could share.

"Can you tell me her story again, Mummy?" the young girl who was poring over the photo album pointed at the woman in the centre of the photograph.

Her mother smiled at the girl, but her eyes were shadowed. "You've heard her a story a lot, Lavender."

"But I want to hear about her again... what was she like?" the girl insisted stubbornly, curling up at her mother's feet and waiting for the story to start. She felt her mother's hands ruffle her hair affectionately.

"Well... she was my best friend when we were in school. We did everything together, Lav... I was as close to her as I was to your aunt. I knew the moment I saw her that we'd be best friends, which sounds a bit silly now, but it's the truth. She was always there for me, even when I was being a spoiled child and wanted to always get my own way - we had very different backgrounds, you see. I was from a rich wizarding family and I'd always had everything I could ever want. She didn't have a very easy childhood. She had to do a lot of the housework and take care of her younger sister and brother most days because her parents were working late so that they could earn enough money for the family. Every summer holiday after she turned twelve, she even took up a summer job to help her family. But she was the happiest girl I'd ever met - always laughing and giggling, being silly whilst we were at Hogwarts. The few times I did go to her house she was completely different, so serious and grown-up it was like she was a different person."

"Why was she so different at home?" Lavender asked, the question she asked every single time she heard this story.

Her mother leaned back in the armchair, entrenched in past memories. "I think for her Hogwarts was an escape - she could be just like most other girls her age. She could talk about boys all night with me, obsess over make-up and dance around as though she didn't have a care in the world. I was one of the few people who actually knew that she had only managed to get into Hogwarts on a scholarship because her parents couldn't afford to send her otherwise. She was honestly one of the bravest people I've ever met, Lavender - even if she sometimes tried too hard to be the giggly girl, the airhead."

Lavender gazed back down at the photograph, the way the woman in the centre leaned forwards towards the camera, facing it squarely. "What happened to her?"

She knew the answer, of course. She could have told her mother the story herself, she had heard it so many times. Yet it was a habit to ask the same questions every time. A kind of comforting routine for the girl. She felt her mother's hands tousle her hair again, absentminded and distant. A part of her wished she could see what her mother was seeing, wished she could know this woman who had once been her mother's best friend.

"She died fighting for what was right," the words were slow, measured. Her mother's eyes were vague and slightly disconcerting, reliving horrors that her daughter would hopefully never see. "She was too young, sweetheart. Her last year at Hogwarts was the first time that most of us ever saw what she could really be like, what a strong character she was if she wasn't too busy trying to cover it all up. She was bloody stupid, going out of her way to ignore her own safety if it meant a first-year could avoid torture. I admire her for it, I really do. I was never brave enough to stand up point-blank to people like that. I did stand up, but I was less straightforward about it - I was the one writing angry words on the walls, rebelling in a less rebellious way. She was really a reckless Gryffindor at heart."

The girl waited for her mother to continue - she always paused like this, preparing herself to tell how her friend had died. It was strange how everything else changed, yet the girl could always rely on her mother to tell this story in the same way, the same pauses, same words almost. Lavender rested her head against her mother's knee affectionately from where she sat at the woman's feet.

"The night of the battle... she was fighting with me most of the night but there was this one time we got separated - I was too busy worrying about my own safety to think much about where she'd gone," there was unfathomable regret in her voice, "and when I _did_ realise that she wasn't with me any longer, when I actually stopped to think about her... I ran around looking for her. It took me so long to find her, and sometimes I think that if I'd been quicker I could have saved her. But by the time I found her she was almost dead. Death looks so different when you see it in real life to when you hear about it from other people, read about it in books... and I hope you won't see what death looks like for a long time, Lavender... she was covered in scars but somehow -" her voice broke - "and I really don't know how... she actually smiled when she saw me. She must have been in so much pain, but she smiled as though I was the best thing that had happened to her. She was so happy to see me and I don't even know why - I'd practically abandoned her, forgotten about her because I was too busy worrying about my own safety."

Small fingers traced the photograph delicately, lightly. It seemed so real to Lavender's young mind, she could almost see the dying girl, the smile on the girl's face, a face that was paling already with signs of imminent death.

"I told her that I was going to carry her back to where she could be seen to by somebody who was actually _good_ at Healing. And she didn't say 'no', but she just said how happy she was that she'd known me. Asked me to break the news gently to her family, to tell Seamus that she gave him her blessings - that she knew he wanted to go out with me... that she approved of it. And then she said how she wasn't afraid of death anymore because she felt that she'd given her life in a way that was honourable, that would help others to live," a very small, silent tear trickled down her mother's cheek. "At the time I thought it was probably the bravest, most stupid thing I'd ever heard anybody say - I didn't want her to die and didn't want her to give up so easily. I guess now I realise that maybe she felt that, with her physical injuries, with what had happened to so many people she loved, she didn't want to continue. And I don't blame her. It wasn't easy to go on after the battle, to know that my classmates, my friends, had died where I had not. Sometimes I wonder... why did I live when so many died?"

It wasn't a question that needed an answer. At ten years old, Lavender knew enough to know that. It was the first time that her mother had actually asked her a question like that, one that was filled with so much anger, guilt and misery. Feeling guilty for the first time that she had put her mother through the experience again, had made her mother relive the battle, she whispered. "You don't have to continue. I know the rest."

"Shhh, it's okay," what she didn't tell her daughter was how badly she _wanted_ to get over this, _wanted_ to retell it until she felt nothing more than a stranger's diffidence to the tale. "And then she asked me, and it's the first time I've heard her so hesitant about anything... she asked me if I'd call my daughter after her - even if it was just a middle name. She said that she felt selfish when so many had given up their lives anonymously, but she wanted people to remember her. And I said that she was being even more silly than she normally was, and that of course I'd name my daughter after her - I would have even if she hadn't asked me. I told her that I would tell my daughter her story so many times that my daughter would be able to remember the entire story off by heart. And she died with a smile on her face."

There was a small silence, heavy with memories that the daughter would never know about, memories that her mother wasn't willing to share with anybody. Memories of dancing around with her best friend, laughing hysterically over something trivial, worrying about whether they would marry the men of their dreams, comforting each other when they were upset. That last year when Lavender had been dating Seamus but had realised that he was in love with her best friend and had broken up with him, told her best friend that she wouldn't hold it against her if she was in love with Seamus, too, and she wouldn't mind too much if Parvati wanted to go out with him now.

"I want to be like her when I'm older," Lavender said briefly. "I want to be able to die like a hero."

"I hope for your sake that when you die you're old and happy, and surrounded by people who love you... not dead bodies," her mother's voice was returning to normal. "And now, it's way past your bedtime. Go upstairs and start getting ready for bed. Don't forget to brush your teeth properly, or else you'll regret it when you're older."

Her daughter stood up and leaned over to peck her mother on the cheek. She disappeared from the room, leaving the photo album on the floor. Her mother leaned down to pick up the album delicately. She let her gaze travel over the photographs, forgetting time as she turned page after page. She faintly heard the door to her daughter's bedroom click shut as Lavender finally went to bed. She absentmindedly noted the opening and closing of the front door as Seamus came home from work. She heard the footsteps of her husband as he made his way over to her, felt his breath on her neck - even after all these years, she couldn't help but feel the butterflies in her stomach - and then felt him press a kiss to her dark hair.

"You told her the story again?"

Parvati nodded, eyes shimmering. She closed the photo album with a snap, placing it on the coffee table. "I don't understand, Seamus. I thought that, after so long, I wouldn't cry over her anymore. I thought that I'd be able to move on."

"Maybe you should stop wishing, Parvati. You don't need to forget her, to distance yourself from her memory to move on. And tears are never anything to be ashamed of - she was your best friend and nobody's going to judge you for crying over her," he took her hands and pulled her up from the chair. Placing her arms around his neck, he began to dance slowly. She allowed herself a small laugh.

"You silly Irishman... I love you," she mumbled, leaning her head against his chest. A few moments passed in comfortable silence, their movements slowing until they weren't moving at all. She lifted her head to gaze into his eyes, eyes that reminded her once more she wasn't alone. "Let's go to bed, shall we?"

He nodded and, without warning, scooped her up into his arms, bride-style. She laughed as he continued determinedly towards the main hall, up the stairs and into their bedroom. The door shut softly behind them.

Down in the living room, the photo album sat on the coffee table inconspicuously. Engraved onto its front, in curling, flourishing italic were two words.

_Lavender Brown_.


	3. Mascara

**Title: _Mascara_**

**Author: _Hesta's Journal_**

**Word Count: _764 (shortest story I've ever written - on this account - yay!)_**

**Type of Story: _Oneshot_**

**Prompt: _Bag_**

**Rating: _K+_**

**Summary:_ Lavender learns how to apply make-up._**

**Author's Note: _Man, I'm on a roll! I've had 'writer's block' (or way too many things to do) for about 2 or 3 weeks and haven't written anything, and then today I suddenly go and write two oneshots (shameless pimping: if you like you can check out my new story Storybook Heroes - which is a collection of unrelated oneshots written for another Bootcamp Challenge). Anyway, I was basically inspired by a memory of my mum letting me play around with her lipstick when I was about three and also of my older cousin who tried to show me how to use mascara and how I kept on flinching back because I thought she was going to poke me in the eye. Ah... good times..._**

**Disclaimer: It is logical to assume that I own the HP universe, right? I mean, I'm JKR... not. (this is probably the lamest disclaimer I've ever come up with, but hey, it gets the job done, right?)**

* * *

Lavender stood on her tiptoes, rummaging through her mother's drawer. Pieces of paper with lipstick marks on them, small bottles of perfume, a thin brush for eyeshadow... all were disregarded by the nine-year-old. Disgruntled, Lavender shoved the drawer shut and moved onto the next one. It had to be here somewhere...

Her small hands touched soft fabric. Aha! She grabbed the bag and withdrew it triumphantly from the drawer, sitting down and leaning back against the chest of drawers that she'd been ransacking.

She dipped her hand into the bag and withdrew a slender silver container. She traced her fingers over the container reverently before flipping it open to reveal little squares of varying colours within. Lavender hesitantly touched the pad of her thumb to a bright pink square before clambering up onto the chair at her mother's chest of drawers and eyeing herself in the mirror.

"Hmmm," she murmured aloud, experimentally dabbing the pad of her thumb against her eyelid. She blinked several times at her reflection. "Not quite..."

Her thumb touched the pale pink square this time and she applied it carefully to her other eyelid. This time the face reflected back at her was approving. She added the colour on the eyelid that had already been splashed with a bright pink, and fiddled around until she was satisfied that the colours on her eyelids matched each other. Then she snapped the silver container shut and fished around in the fabric bag again.

Lavender withdrew her hand, clutching mascara. She popped the cap off and then stared at the mascara for a while, wondering how to apply it. She squeezed her eyes shut in concentration as she envisioned her mother sitting where she was, trying to remember how her mother had used it.

In her concentration, Lavender didn't hear the soft footsteps enter the room. She didn't hear them as they stopped right behind her, and almost jumped out of her skin when a gentle hand touched her shoulder. Her eyes flew open and, heart pounding wildly, she stared into the mirror and saw her mother standing behind her.

"Sorry! Sorry! I was just playing, Mummy!" Lavender squeaked, round eyes staring at her mother as she wondered what her mother would do next - her mother wasn't fond of people playing around with her belongings.

To her surprise, a slow smile spread across the woman's face. "Do you want to learn how to do that?"

Lavender gawked at her mother. "I... yes. Yes, please."

The mascara was gently taken from her hand and Lavender watched as her mother applied it to herself, slowly so that her daughter could watch what she was doing in detail. Then she bent down slightly and began to brush it against Lavender's eyelashes. "Don't move your eyes, Lavender."

Lavender leaned backwards as the mascara brush came closer to her eye - she was half-afraid that it would poke her in the eyeball. When she noticed that her mother had halted the mascara in mid-air, waiting for her daughter to lean forwards again, Lavender smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, Mum."

And she leaned forwards and allowed her mother to apply the mascara to the eyelashes of her right eye. Then she took it from her mother's hand and tried doing it herself. Although she made several black spots appear on her pale pink eyelid, she felt rather pleased with the overall effect. Her eyes stared back at her in the mirror, looking very un-Lavender-like.

"Can you show me how to do eye-liner?" Lavender asked, not wanting her mother to leave. She rarely got to spend time with her mother, as she was working full-time at the Ministry as well as regularly attending parties and events: her mother was somewhat of a social butterfly.

Her mother laughed slightly, but she opened the drawer on Lavender's right-hand side and withdrew the eye-liner. "Of course."

Looking back on it, many years later, Lavender realised that that afternoon, spent experimenting with cosmetics, was probably one of the few times she had ever had her mother entirely to herself for so long. Maybe that memory of companionship, of a mother-figure guiding her through the steps needed to do something, was one of the reasons that Lavender loved applying make-up - to herself and others.

Because, even years afterwards, the feeling of being loved blossomed inside her the moment she sat down to get ready for the day and slid off the lid of the lipstick or mascara, or ran her eyeshadow-covered finger across her eyelid.


	4. Best Friends Don't Keep Secrets

**Title: _Best Friends Don't Keep Secrets_**

**Author: _Hesta's Journal_**

**Word Count: _1186_**

**Type of Story: _Oneshot_**

**Prompt: _Secret_**

**Rating: _T_**

**Summary: _Of course best friends don't keep secrets from each other, especially not when it concerns boys._**

**A/N: _Kind of plotless, silly, light-hearted. Which obviously means that I really enjoyed writing this :)._**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the HP universe.**

* * *

"Paaaarvaaaatiiii," Lavender sing-songed as she danced into their dormitory, hair flying as she spun around with her arms in the air.

"Laaavendeeer," Parvati mimicked her, looking up from the diary that she was writing in. Her eyes searched her friend's curiously.

"Guess what?" Lavender plopped down on the bed next to her, barely suppressing a squeal of delight. She clapped her hands together excitedly, bobbing up and down on the bed. "Guess what, guess what, guess what?"

"Harry and Ginny are together!"

Lavender shook her head despairingly. "No, not yet. They still can't see that they're made for each other. No, but, seriously, guess what?"

Parvati tapped her finger against her chin thoughtfully, diary forgotten in her lap. "You snogged somebody?"

"No, but very close," Lavender sighed regretfully. Her eyes alighted on her friend's latest diary entry and then widened. "Hey, Parvati! Does that 'Z' stand for Zacharias?"

Parvati flushed and quickly snapped her diary shut, shoving it into her trunk at the end of her bed. "None of your business."

"Hey, we're best friends! We don't keep secrets from each other!" Lavender protested, leaning over the other girl to fish around in the trunk for the diary with a mischievous grin. "I've told you all my secrets."

"Oh yeah?" Parvati challenged, slapping her friend's hand away from the trunk and hauling her back onto the bed. "You haven't told me the secret that you came in to tell me."

"Well, it's not exactly a secret...," Lavender settled back onto Parvati's pillows, resolving to try and get the diary another time. "In fact, about three people already know... I mean, Professor Sprout and Professor Sinistra know."

"How'd they know? And who's the third person?" Parvati pounced eagerly at the chance to change the subject. A look of realisation dawned upon her face when Lavender failed to reply, and the dark-skinned girl let out a squeal of delight. "Oh my sweet Merlin! They caught you and a boy together, didn't they? Who's the boy, Lav? C'mon, you have to tell me now!"

Lavender pursed her lips primly and waggled her finger at Parvati. "I don't know if I should tell you, actually. I mean... he might not want people to know we're together."

"Oh, come off it! You want to tell me," Parvati snorted, waving her hand around inelegantly.

Lavender's eyes sparkled, and a grin broke out on her face. "You're right. I do want to tell you, but you have to at least make an effort, 'Vati."

Parvati flopped down next to Lavender on the bed, resting her head on the other half of the pillow that Lavender's head was occupying. She pretended to think very hard for a few seconds. "Hmmm... oh my... who could it be... wait... Seamus Finnigan?"

Lavender gawped at her friend, eyes widening in shock. "Why on earth would you think it was Seamus?"

Parvati was floored for a moment. She blinked several times in rapid succession at the other girl. "It's not?"

"Of course it is!" Lavender roared with laughter at Parvati's annoyed expression. "You actually fell for that? Maybe I should take up a career as an actress... the Muggles would love me."

Parvati stared at Lavender irritatedly for a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, watching as Lavender started crying from laughter. Then a small smile curved her lips, instantly suppressed. Another small smile followed seconds later and before she knew it she was laughing with her friend. "Merlin, Lavender... alright... tell me all about it."

Lavender gulped in several deep breaths and wiped away the tears from her eyes. "It... it... was abso... lute... ly... amazing. Fantastic. Especially the looks on the Professors'... faces... -" she pushed herself up a little bit higher on the bed, so that her back was resting against the headboard - "... basically, Seamus and I were up at the Astronomy Tower talking and doing homework... well, sort of doing homework... but anyway, there was this one moment and it got really intense. He was just looking at me and I was looking at him and you know... things got a bit... heated."

Both girls giggled here, each thinking back to a moment in their lives when things had become a bit 'heated' between them and a boy. Then Lavender resumed the story solemnly. "And he kind of leaned towards me and I leaned towards him. We were, like, that close -" she held her fingers about an inch apart - "to kissing each other. That close. And then Professor Sinistra and Professor McGonagall walked in and I almost fell over backwards, I'm serious, from shock. I mean, what the heck where they doing up at the Astronomy Tower together? And I heard them talking about Snape, too. But, anyway, Seamus and I almost ran from the Tower, that's how embarrassed we were. Or how embarrassed he was. I quite liked it. You know, being caught in the act 'n' all."

Parvati stifled another giggle with her hand. "I thought Seamus would have liked that?"

"Oh, I'm sure he did. But I think he got worried that McGonagall would dock House points or something ridiculous. He said to me afterwards that he'd rather Snape have caught us - at least he could have seen the look on that 'slimy git's face'," Lavender made air quotes, recalling Seamus's laughter as they descended from the Tower rapidly.

"Did he end up kissing you, though?" Parvati pressed eagerly, eyes shining.

"Wellllll... yeah... he did," Lavender nodded glowingly. "He kissed me just before I came up here. Just outside the common room, in front of the Fat Lady and Malfoy. He reckoned that the look on Malfoy's face was almost as good as Snape's - I swear I heard Malfoy saying something about public displays of affection and stupid Gryffindors."

"That git! He snogs Parkinson all the time!"

Lavender shrugged, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "Well... do you want to know what else happened? -" she didn't wait for Parvati to answer - "Seamus asked me to the Yule Ball!"

"No!" Parvati gaped. "That's brilliant! I wish somebody'd ask me..."

"Maybe you should ask this 'Z' bloke to the Yule Ball, you know," Lavender said smugly, acting as though she knew all there was to know about relationships now that she was in one.

Parvati shook her head vigorously. "No way. I'm not going to ask a boy to the Yule Ball. He has to ask me."

"Well, then you're going to have to be a bit more obvious that nobody's asked you yet. Going around kissing guys is a good way. Look how well it worked out for me."

As it turned out, Parvati didn't even need to kiss a bloke to get him to ask her to the Yule Ball. Lavender couldn't deny that she felt fleetingly jealous when she realised that the Boy Who Lived had asked her friend to go the Yule Ball with him, but when she saw Seamus waiting in the Gryffindor common room for her on the day of the Yule Ball, she couldn't help but feel the luckiest girl at Hogwarts.


End file.
